Post by Jules on Sept 21, 2012 10:04:34 GMT -4
Phil: “The Emperor realized that the people were right but could not admit to that. He though it better to continue the procession under the illusion that anyone who couldn't see his clothes was either stupid or incompetent. And he stood stiffly on his carriage, while behind him a page held his imaginary mantle.”
As the scene opens to this line the camera is focussed on the face of Phil, the once forgotten backstage interviewer, now honorary member of “The Quintessentially English Empire”, sat in a comfy arm chair, book in hand. As the camera pans away the form of the Tap Out Champion, Julius Farquhar (no introductions needed), comes into view, sat in an equally, if not more so, comfy arm chair; a smile of contentment spread across his face. Phil closes the book and puts it down on the table.
Jules: Ah, ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, one of my all-time favourite stories.
Phil: I suppose it’s okay, for a children’s story, but I thought you being you, you’d be a keen study of the plays or Shakespeare or the poetry of Wordsworth.
Jules: Do you know why it is one of my favourite stories?
Phil: It’s got nudity, that usually sells well with people.
Jules: Behave, old boy! You are a saucy villain when you want to be, Philip.
Phil moves awkwardly in his chair.
Phil: I give up.
Jules: It reminds me so much of the folly of everyone around me. Every week I see my fellow ‘Megastars’, not that the title denotes any kind of equality, are beset with making all sorts of new promises and attempting to re-invent themselves. Look at Anthony Bailey; the desperation in that juvenile passive aggression is laughable. Michael Callahan, a man who I once thought had principles, misguided ones, but principles nonetheless, which is more than can be said for someone like Jason Kash. But now Mr. Callahan bays to the audience.
Phil: What’s your point? Nothing wrong with trying to have a new perspective on things every once in a while.
Jules: My point, dear old cock, is that all this blathering about ‘new identities’ and ‘re-invention’ is vacuous. They are like the emperor in this story, they con themselves into believing they are dressed in the finest regalia, when really they are as naked, vulnerable and weak as the day they were born. Whereas the ‘Quintessentially English” has remained unchanged in generations, without any need for change or re-invention, and yet we remain the best dressed of them all. When you have got it, you have got it, old chap.
Phil: Wait. Are we talking about fashion or wrestling here?
Julius ignores Phil, and continues.
Jules: Take for example, my opponent this week.
Phil: Johnny Knuckles.
Jules: Yes. Here is a man who has had more wardrobe changes than a furniture store. In little under a year I have seen Johnny Knuckles try to renew himself countless times; in fact a study of his career reveals he has made a career out of trying to ‘transcend himself’ and create legacy, but the misfortune is that every single time he ends up failing more miserably than the last time.
Phil looks a bit confused; Julius leans over the right arm of his chair, pulls up a dossier and tosses it at Phil.
Jules: It is a good job your lackey credentials outweigh your journalistic initiative. Anyway, it is all in there.
Phil sifts through the dossier which is loaded with documents about Johnny Knuckles.
Phil: Where did you get this?
Jules: I am not merely a phenomenon in the ring, Philip. But back to Mr. Knuckles. He began his career as the muscle for some disorganised shower of disreputable vandals.
Phil: I think they’re called the Mafia.
Jules: That is beside the point. What is not, though, is Johnny Knuckles was about as much use in that operation as a paper umbrella in the Monsoon. Next Johnny tried his hand at that girl’s game, Mixed Martial Arts.
Phil: Girls game? Those are some of the toughest fighters in the world?
Jules: By whose standards? Anyway, moving on, and so did Johnny when he realised that the only fighting he would be involved in his haggling with the obese man in the front row over the price of the peanuts he was selling.
Phil: That’s nonsense! He was one of the most dangerous MMA fighters; they had to disavow him because he was too much of a threat to the other fighters.
Jules: I think you will find in that dossier a testimony wholly to the contrary. The only threat Johnny Knuckles posed was to the supply of hot dogs.
Phil peruses the files, and pulls out a single A4 sheet of paper, reading out loud its contents.
Phil: Johnny Knuckles worked as a MMA employee selling peanuts....
Phil stops and studies the sheet.
Phil: But this is your handwriting. The signature at the bottom is a near replica of yours!
Jules: Give me that!
Julius snatches the sheet of paper from Phil.
Jules: We all know it is an approximation of the truth. Anyway, somehow Johnny Knuckles smuggled his way into the wrestling world and was even so bold as to call himself ‘The Innovator’.
Phil: I remember those days. All those run-ins with Jason Kash; they even struck up an alliance of shorts.
Jules: I’ve analysed those moments and I can tell you I have witnessed more innovation in a decomposing slurry pit; I would anticipate more mental activity at a Jason Kash-hosted house party. I will give Johnny his dues, he has shown an unerring commitment to failure throughout the duration of his ill-advised and, quite frankly, bungled career. I have never known a man to make embarrassment his mainstay, and donkey-based tomfoolery the badge of a man who I would not even trust to adequately pack my groceries.
Phil: But he’s still going strong, huh? You can’t deny he’s got some pluck and some fighting spirit.
Julius: Ah yes, this leads us nicely onto his new guise ‘The Survivor’. Maybe Knuckles is onto to something here: no matter how many times he gets knocked down he always comes back; like the elusive cockroach, hardiness and durability seem to be his beneficial clause.
Phil: Just ask Jason Kash; he’s made a career of snapping Rottweiler-like at Kash’s heels.
Julius: Rottweiler! You are a spinning of fanciful fables, aren’t you Philip? It must be the journalist in you. I would say it was more akin to the snapping of a terrier, or some other such weasely mutt I could readily crush with one stomp of my right foot. I would venture to say that Knuckles has about him the quality of being a ‘thorn in one’s side’, but even this, I attest, would be to give him too much credit, and would only be done in order to indulge his favour. The difference, however, is that at least a thorn is the source of some discomfort before you dislodge it. In reality Knuckles is like a buzzing fly: a mere mild irritant can is easily crushed with one careful strike.
Phil: Come on now, Jules. You’re being really unkind.
Jules: I object. I say I am being perfectly reasonable.
Phil: Even you cannot deny what a great year 2012 has been for Johnny Knuckles. He came as close as anyone to winning the annual Survivor & Conquer match; he beat Alioth Starre twice; he pushed Jason Kash to the limit twice. Come now, Jules, don’t be so crass, this guy is an Asylum mainstay.
Julius ponders this for a minute, then he replies, a hint of humility in his voice.
Julius: Mr. Dangerous is also an Asylum mainstay, Philip. Nevertheless, you are correct: that is a remarkable list of achievements. Now I actually think about it I can list a few more: he lost the Survivor & Conquer match; he lost twice to Jason Kash in World Championship matches and he lost to Anthony Bailey – note I am undefeated against both; he was miserable in the Test For The Best tournament...oh, and my personal favourite, he lists among his recent accomplishments a defeat to none other than Phil Atken. How long has been embezzling the hard-earned wages of APW fans? And what has he offered in return – nothing except some donkeys and three minutes of comic relief every week as he tries to imitate fine wrestlers like myself.
Phil shakes his head, he tries to retort, but stops himself and continues to shake his head.
Julius: Let’s just go out on a whacky, hypothetical limb, let’s pretend we are Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, and we arrive at a place where Johnny Knuckles is a credible athlete and a worthy opponent of my “Quintessentially English” talents. Even in such an unlikely eventuality Johnny Knuckles would have, unfortunately, maintained his villainous ways with farm animals and using their excretions for personal gain; in this one in a million state of affairs the painstaking sound of Johnny Knuckles voice, and the look of that contorted and mangled expression he calls a smile, commit a capital crime against decency. I have heard it through official channels that The Hague itself is demanding to speak to Johnny Knuckles on account of his behaviour.
Phil: Someone has accused him of donkey molestation?
Julius: Philip! Keep your personal fantasies to yourself. Children watch my broadcasts – English children too; remember that. Anyway, where was I?
Phil: The Hague, Johnny Knuckles, some investigation.
Julius: It is all in the dossier.
Phil begins to shuffle, but Julius pulls it out of his hands.
Julius: Listen, that is not important. What is important is that I will complete the rather humdrum affair of beating Johnny Knuckles, it is like some kind of contractual stipulation, but the difference is I will do it spectacularly.
Phil: I’m just saying Jules, don’t be so cock sure about this. Knuckles may look the buffoon, but he excels on the big occasion.
Julius: So you keep telling me, and so does he keep trying to convince the world that is the case. The truth, however, paints a different picture: failure after failure after failure, and, moreover, every single wrestler that has troubled Johnny Knuckles this year I have already beaten: Kash, Bailey, Atken – all prey to the Quintessentially English Empire.
Julius suddenly changes his stance from talking to Phil about Knuckles to talking at the camera to Knuckles.
Julius: Johnny Knuckles, you think this is your big night. Well let me give you a little premonition, this one will unfold in the exact manner of every other night you promised the world a new Johnny Knuckles that would take on and conquer the world. It is nothing personal Johnny, and when I break you I want you to keep that in mind. I cannot afford any slip ups between this moment and One Night In Hell and I will not allow one to occur this week. It is not just a bad hand but a bad deck you are playing with this week because every action I perform must be a reminder to TJ of what my mind has in store for him at One Night in Hell.
Julius pauses and a sinister smile emerges as corners of his mouth curl upwards.
Julius: I will take you to the brink Johnny, then I will ease the pressure before you are forced to submit, just to show TJ that I have that power, to choose between not just winning and losing, but survival or career death. The one thing to your advantage Johnny is that at least you will be granted mercy to carry on your pathetic career, whereas TJ will get no such privilege. But Johnny, you will be forced to PAY HOMAGE!
As the scene opens to this line the camera is focussed on the face of Phil, the once forgotten backstage interviewer, now honorary member of “The Quintessentially English Empire”, sat in a comfy arm chair, book in hand. As the camera pans away the form of the Tap Out Champion, Julius Farquhar (no introductions needed), comes into view, sat in an equally, if not more so, comfy arm chair; a smile of contentment spread across his face. Phil closes the book and puts it down on the table.
Jules: Ah, ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, one of my all-time favourite stories.
Phil: I suppose it’s okay, for a children’s story, but I thought you being you, you’d be a keen study of the plays or Shakespeare or the poetry of Wordsworth.
Jules: Do you know why it is one of my favourite stories?
Phil: It’s got nudity, that usually sells well with people.
Jules: Behave, old boy! You are a saucy villain when you want to be, Philip.
Phil moves awkwardly in his chair.
Phil: I give up.
Jules: It reminds me so much of the folly of everyone around me. Every week I see my fellow ‘Megastars’, not that the title denotes any kind of equality, are beset with making all sorts of new promises and attempting to re-invent themselves. Look at Anthony Bailey; the desperation in that juvenile passive aggression is laughable. Michael Callahan, a man who I once thought had principles, misguided ones, but principles nonetheless, which is more than can be said for someone like Jason Kash. But now Mr. Callahan bays to the audience.
Phil: What’s your point? Nothing wrong with trying to have a new perspective on things every once in a while.
Jules: My point, dear old cock, is that all this blathering about ‘new identities’ and ‘re-invention’ is vacuous. They are like the emperor in this story, they con themselves into believing they are dressed in the finest regalia, when really they are as naked, vulnerable and weak as the day they were born. Whereas the ‘Quintessentially English” has remained unchanged in generations, without any need for change or re-invention, and yet we remain the best dressed of them all. When you have got it, you have got it, old chap.
Phil: Wait. Are we talking about fashion or wrestling here?
Julius ignores Phil, and continues.
Jules: Take for example, my opponent this week.
Phil: Johnny Knuckles.
Jules: Yes. Here is a man who has had more wardrobe changes than a furniture store. In little under a year I have seen Johnny Knuckles try to renew himself countless times; in fact a study of his career reveals he has made a career out of trying to ‘transcend himself’ and create legacy, but the misfortune is that every single time he ends up failing more miserably than the last time.
Phil looks a bit confused; Julius leans over the right arm of his chair, pulls up a dossier and tosses it at Phil.
Jules: It is a good job your lackey credentials outweigh your journalistic initiative. Anyway, it is all in there.
Phil sifts through the dossier which is loaded with documents about Johnny Knuckles.
Phil: Where did you get this?
Jules: I am not merely a phenomenon in the ring, Philip. But back to Mr. Knuckles. He began his career as the muscle for some disorganised shower of disreputable vandals.
Phil: I think they’re called the Mafia.
Jules: That is beside the point. What is not, though, is Johnny Knuckles was about as much use in that operation as a paper umbrella in the Monsoon. Next Johnny tried his hand at that girl’s game, Mixed Martial Arts.
Phil: Girls game? Those are some of the toughest fighters in the world?
Jules: By whose standards? Anyway, moving on, and so did Johnny when he realised that the only fighting he would be involved in his haggling with the obese man in the front row over the price of the peanuts he was selling.
Phil: That’s nonsense! He was one of the most dangerous MMA fighters; they had to disavow him because he was too much of a threat to the other fighters.
Jules: I think you will find in that dossier a testimony wholly to the contrary. The only threat Johnny Knuckles posed was to the supply of hot dogs.
Phil peruses the files, and pulls out a single A4 sheet of paper, reading out loud its contents.
Phil: Johnny Knuckles worked as a MMA employee selling peanuts....
Phil stops and studies the sheet.
Phil: But this is your handwriting. The signature at the bottom is a near replica of yours!
Jules: Give me that!
Julius snatches the sheet of paper from Phil.
Jules: We all know it is an approximation of the truth. Anyway, somehow Johnny Knuckles smuggled his way into the wrestling world and was even so bold as to call himself ‘The Innovator’.
Phil: I remember those days. All those run-ins with Jason Kash; they even struck up an alliance of shorts.
Jules: I’ve analysed those moments and I can tell you I have witnessed more innovation in a decomposing slurry pit; I would anticipate more mental activity at a Jason Kash-hosted house party. I will give Johnny his dues, he has shown an unerring commitment to failure throughout the duration of his ill-advised and, quite frankly, bungled career. I have never known a man to make embarrassment his mainstay, and donkey-based tomfoolery the badge of a man who I would not even trust to adequately pack my groceries.
Phil: But he’s still going strong, huh? You can’t deny he’s got some pluck and some fighting spirit.
Julius: Ah yes, this leads us nicely onto his new guise ‘The Survivor’. Maybe Knuckles is onto to something here: no matter how many times he gets knocked down he always comes back; like the elusive cockroach, hardiness and durability seem to be his beneficial clause.
Phil: Just ask Jason Kash; he’s made a career of snapping Rottweiler-like at Kash’s heels.
Julius: Rottweiler! You are a spinning of fanciful fables, aren’t you Philip? It must be the journalist in you. I would say it was more akin to the snapping of a terrier, or some other such weasely mutt I could readily crush with one stomp of my right foot. I would venture to say that Knuckles has about him the quality of being a ‘thorn in one’s side’, but even this, I attest, would be to give him too much credit, and would only be done in order to indulge his favour. The difference, however, is that at least a thorn is the source of some discomfort before you dislodge it. In reality Knuckles is like a buzzing fly: a mere mild irritant can is easily crushed with one careful strike.
Phil: Come on now, Jules. You’re being really unkind.
Jules: I object. I say I am being perfectly reasonable.
Phil: Even you cannot deny what a great year 2012 has been for Johnny Knuckles. He came as close as anyone to winning the annual Survivor & Conquer match; he beat Alioth Starre twice; he pushed Jason Kash to the limit twice. Come now, Jules, don’t be so crass, this guy is an Asylum mainstay.
Julius ponders this for a minute, then he replies, a hint of humility in his voice.
Julius: Mr. Dangerous is also an Asylum mainstay, Philip. Nevertheless, you are correct: that is a remarkable list of achievements. Now I actually think about it I can list a few more: he lost the Survivor & Conquer match; he lost twice to Jason Kash in World Championship matches and he lost to Anthony Bailey – note I am undefeated against both; he was miserable in the Test For The Best tournament...oh, and my personal favourite, he lists among his recent accomplishments a defeat to none other than Phil Atken. How long has been embezzling the hard-earned wages of APW fans? And what has he offered in return – nothing except some donkeys and three minutes of comic relief every week as he tries to imitate fine wrestlers like myself.
Phil shakes his head, he tries to retort, but stops himself and continues to shake his head.
Julius: Let’s just go out on a whacky, hypothetical limb, let’s pretend we are Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, and we arrive at a place where Johnny Knuckles is a credible athlete and a worthy opponent of my “Quintessentially English” talents. Even in such an unlikely eventuality Johnny Knuckles would have, unfortunately, maintained his villainous ways with farm animals and using their excretions for personal gain; in this one in a million state of affairs the painstaking sound of Johnny Knuckles voice, and the look of that contorted and mangled expression he calls a smile, commit a capital crime against decency. I have heard it through official channels that The Hague itself is demanding to speak to Johnny Knuckles on account of his behaviour.
Phil: Someone has accused him of donkey molestation?
Julius: Philip! Keep your personal fantasies to yourself. Children watch my broadcasts – English children too; remember that. Anyway, where was I?
Phil: The Hague, Johnny Knuckles, some investigation.
Julius: It is all in the dossier.
Phil begins to shuffle, but Julius pulls it out of his hands.
Julius: Listen, that is not important. What is important is that I will complete the rather humdrum affair of beating Johnny Knuckles, it is like some kind of contractual stipulation, but the difference is I will do it spectacularly.
Phil: I’m just saying Jules, don’t be so cock sure about this. Knuckles may look the buffoon, but he excels on the big occasion.
Julius: So you keep telling me, and so does he keep trying to convince the world that is the case. The truth, however, paints a different picture: failure after failure after failure, and, moreover, every single wrestler that has troubled Johnny Knuckles this year I have already beaten: Kash, Bailey, Atken – all prey to the Quintessentially English Empire.
Julius suddenly changes his stance from talking to Phil about Knuckles to talking at the camera to Knuckles.
Julius: Johnny Knuckles, you think this is your big night. Well let me give you a little premonition, this one will unfold in the exact manner of every other night you promised the world a new Johnny Knuckles that would take on and conquer the world. It is nothing personal Johnny, and when I break you I want you to keep that in mind. I cannot afford any slip ups between this moment and One Night In Hell and I will not allow one to occur this week. It is not just a bad hand but a bad deck you are playing with this week because every action I perform must be a reminder to TJ of what my mind has in store for him at One Night in Hell.
Julius pauses and a sinister smile emerges as corners of his mouth curl upwards.
Julius: I will take you to the brink Johnny, then I will ease the pressure before you are forced to submit, just to show TJ that I have that power, to choose between not just winning and losing, but survival or career death. The one thing to your advantage Johnny is that at least you will be granted mercy to carry on your pathetic career, whereas TJ will get no such privilege. But Johnny, you will be forced to PAY HOMAGE!
